Protector
by summerlinde
Summary: AU: The group rescued a third person from Monroe's headquarters. Charlie hates her, even though she knows she shouldn't. Danny/OC. Oneshot, at least for now.


Charlie sat in the basement of the house they'd taken shelter in, glaring into the tiny campfire they'd built on the concrete floor. Everyone seemed to expect her to want to help the teenage girl Danny had insisted on rescuing. They seemed sure that if anyone besides Danny could make a connection with Annabel instead of scaring her, it was Charlie. And maybe that was true. But that didn't mean she wanted to do it.

Charlie felt bad for hating the other girl, but she couldn't help herself. Every time she looked into the wide, brown, perpetually terrified eyes of the girl who had been glued to Danny's side since the rescue, she felt a wave of rage and hurt and sadness wash over her and she didn't want to have anything to do with the girl. Which meant not having anything to do with Danny himself, which made everything hurt even worse.

Miles and Nora, and maybe even Aaron, seemed to think that she hated the girl purely because Danny had run back into danger to go get Anna, and Charlie was willing to admit, at least to herself, that they might not be completely wrong. Mom seemed to think that she hated Anna because the other girl was taking all of Danny's attention away, and maybe that wasn't completely wrong either. But it wasn't the point, and the point was something she felt like she couldn't explain to anyone without sounding like a terrible person.

She didn't like that Danny had put himself in danger for this girl they barely knew, or that Anna had attached herself to Danny like an extra limb, or that Anna shied away from everyone else in the group, as though she couldn't help feeling terrified of them. But those weren't the reasons she hated the other girl. She hated the other girl because she was 17 and weak and helpless and _Danny was protecting her_.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Charlie was supposed to protect Danny. _That_ was how it was supposed to be. That was how it had _always_ been, for as long as she could remember. She looked after Danny. She kept him safe. She protected him. And now that was all gone. She'd let him be captured and she'd tried desperately to get him back, to protect him like she always had, but it was too late. The Danny she'd rescued didn't _need_ to be looked after anymore. The Danny she'd rescued could not only take care of himself, he could take care of himself _and Annabel_. And every time Charlie saw the two of them together, it was a painful reminder of that fact. Danny didn't need protection, now. Danny was the one doing the protecting. And something about that fact made Charlie feel useless and awful and sad.

They didn't know much about the girl, other than that she and Danny had been prisoners together and that she was deeply broken. Danny had run back into Monroe's headquarters to rescue the girl, and they had emerged at the last minute, with Miles covering them to get them out.

From the way Annabel had looked then, half-naked and half-starved and covered in blood and bruises, they could make more than a few guesses about what had happened to her. They just couldn't have those guesses verified, because every time the subject came up, Danny's blue eyes flashed dangerously in a way Charlie had never seen before but that Miles said reminded him of her, and he changed the subject so pointedly that they couldn't even try to bring the questions back up again.

They'd given Annabel Charlie's one spare set of clothes, but she still had no shoes, and they'd fed her up as much as they could, but she was still waifishly thin, and the bruises were gone, but the memory of them wasn't.

The mental scars were almost more obvious, now, than the physical ones. Annabel couldn't look anyone in the eye for more than a few seconds, and Miles and Nora couldn't come within 10 feet of the girl without her trembling like a leaf. She said they moved like militia, and she was trying not to be afraid, and she was going to keep trying, but it was hard. Rachel couldn't come within 5 feet, because while she didn't move like a soldier, Anna couldn't get the image of Rachel walking free through the hallways out of her head.

Aaron couldn't get close either, without Anna flinching away from him instinctively. She didn't say why, but she didn't need to. They knew. It was because he was a man, and that was the only reason her fragile, wounded subconscious needed in order to fear him. She was trying to fix that, too, she said. Which was good, because the wounded-puppy look her childhood schoolteacher got in his eyes every time Anna shied away from him made Charlie like the girl even less. Charlie was pretty sure Anna was just scared of _her_ because it wasn't really a secret that she didn't like the other girl.

The only person Anna wasn't afraid of was Danny, and no one was sure exactly why. That made everything hurt worse, too. Here Danny was, strong and grown-up and protecting other people, now, and they didn't even know how it had all started. They just knew that Anna couldn't fall asleep without him, that she had panic attacks when they were apart for too long, and that when he got farther than arm's reach from her, she looked around frantically, almost twitching as she tried to watch everything around her at once. The adults called it "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," which Charlie would have thought was made up if they hadn't _all_ said it wasn't,

They weren't sure how Danny played into it all, but they seemed perfectly willing to let the two teenagers stay attached at the hip so that Danny could "fix" her. Charlie hated it. Annabel slept in Danny's arms every night and the adults said nothing about how inappropriate that was. They were _kids_! But Anna couldn't sleep otherwise, and everyone let it slip on by, especially because it meant that when she had her usual violent nightmares, Danny was right there to shake her gently awake and hold her while she cried and she wasn't quite as likely to wake the rest of them up as she might have been without him. Charlie hated that, too, on the nights when Anna's nightmares woke them all up in spite of Danny's best efforts.

Charlie reached for the stick next to her and prodded the fire. She was pretty sure something was wrong with _her_, too. Something about the difference between pity and hate had probably gone wrong, and Charlie was sick and no one had noticed, because they were worrying about Anna being sick. She was so wrapped up in the thought of it that she didn't hear the footsteps coming toward her, halting and unfamiliar. She didn't notice Annabel's presence until the other girl squatted down on the other side of the fire, still on her feet like she might leap up and run at any moment.

Annabel glanced twitchily over both shoulders like she was afraid someone might sneak up behind her and Charlie wondered where Danny was and why her brother wasn't here to keep Annabel from twitching. She looked around and found him leaning against the doorway and looking shockingly like Dad as he watched them both, smiling encouragingly as first Charlie and then Annabel looked over at him and met his eyes.

"I want to talk to you," the other girl said quietly, twitching around to look out at the room again for a brief moment. "No," Anna clarified, voice a little stronger as she looked at Charlie's face for an instant and then glanced back down into the fire, "I _need_ to talk to you." Charlie had no idea what to say to that, so she just nodded.

"You don't like me." Annabel said it like it was a fact and Charlie didn't bother to say anything back. She _didn't_ like the other girl. The other girl was turning her world upside down and making Danny into something he'd never been before.

Anna twitched around again nervously and Charlie half wondered why Danny didn't come over to them. But then Anna looked her in the eye for a longer moment than she ever had before and Charlie realized that this was a big moment. Something important was going on, and why in the world had Anna picked _her_ for this big brave moment of whatever-it-was? Couldn't she have picked Mom or Aaron or Nora instead? (Charlie kind of understood why Annabel was afraid of Uncle Miles. Lots of people were afraid of Uncle Miles.)

"You don't like the way I am with Danny," Anna said, still sounding surprisingly sure of herself, "But I can't help it. I know you think I can, but I can't. I think-" Whatever the other girl thought was swallowed up by a moment of panic, Anna's eyes widening and then closing as she forced herself to get under control. Danny pushed himself upright as if he were thinking about coming over, but then Anna opened her eyes again and turned to look at him for a moment and he leaned back against the doorframe, looking worried. "I'm ok," Anna said. "Kind of. Sorry."

Charlie knew she shouldn't be impatient. Anna was trying. But she didn't _want_ to be patient. She didn't want to be having this conversation, whatever it was, and she certainly didn't want to have to smile through it and pretend to be encouraging and happy and to like the girl who was making Danny something that didn't fit into Charlie's world the right way anymore.

"We met on the train ride." Anna said, the words coming out too fast like she was trying to get them over with. "The soldiers were worried that Monroe would be angry with them for losing you, so they stopped at the one last train station before Philadelphia and they grabbed me off the street and took me to him as a present." Charlie almost couldn't keep up with the words, but then Anna stopped again, panting hard like she was halfway to hyperventilation.

Charlie wasn't sure what that meant. The idea of it was disgusting, making her stomach wriggle uncomfortably, but that probably wasn't why Anna was telling her this. Was she supposed to feel bad because all of this was her fault? Was she supposed to suddenly be on Anna's side because if she had just died, this would never have happened to Anna? That was ridiculous! Charlie had _needed_ to survive. She'd _needed_ to save _Danny_, and if Anna couldn't understand that, she was an idiot. "That's not my fault!" she snapped.

Anna lost it completely, shaking visibly from head to foot and gulping down big, fast, panicked breaths of air, like she was trying not to drown. Danny was by her side in an instant, running from the doorway to pull her into his arms, and Anna clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world. He glared briefly at Charlie and she couldn't help feeling affronted. She hadn't _done_ anything! It wasn't like she'd _told_ the militia to kidnap some random girl and use her to placate their crazy leader. It wasn't like it was _her_ fault that the militia was made up of depraved, cruel, awful people who did awful things to girls their age.

"It's ok," Danny whispered to the girl, over and over, holding her close with one arm while his other hand stroked through her hair. "It's ok, it's ok, it's ok. We're away from there, and I won't let them near you ever again. I promise."

Charlie couldn't stand it. That was _her_ line. That was what she was supposed to be saying to Danny _right now_, and at every other moment, and when he woke up from the occasional nightmares that he had, too, and that Anna comforted him from because she was always there faster because she'd never left him to begin with. Charlie couldn't watch this. Watching this hurt. She got up to leave.

Nothing Anna could have possibly said would have made Charlie sit back down again, but Anna didn't speak. Danny did, reaching out the hand that had been stroking Anna's hair and grabbing Charlie's wrist. "Wait, Charlie! Don't! You need to know what happened to us. I don't know why you don't like Anna, but you need to know I need her. And why. And why she needs me. Sit down."

Danny had been all fire where Anna was concerned, flashing eyes and sparks of anger and an intense defensiveness, ever since they'd come out of Monroe's building together, and now he was being something else, something softer and weaker and more like the boy she'd grown up protecting. Charlie stopped for a moment. "What?" she asked crankily, still not sure she wanted to stay here for this, not sure she wanted to watch Danny take over what her job was supposed to be and leave her out in the cold and useless.

"Sit down, Charlie. Please." There was an edge of pleading to Danny's voice, and Charlie felt something inside her unknotting at the familiarity of the sound. It was like when he was recovering from an asthma attack and he didn't want to be alone. She sat back down.

It was hard to sit there as Danny turned his attention back to Anna, just watching as her brother calmed the girl's tremors and got her back on an even keel. Charlie had never liked waiting, and the waiting was even worse than usual now. She stayed anyway, because Danny had asked her to. And because Danny had said he needed Anna, and she just didn't see it. He didn't need Annabel. He had _her_. And maybe, if she stuck around to hear his explanation, she could make him see that.

Eventually, Annabel was calm again, as calm as she ever was, half melting against Danny's side like she belonged there, and Charlie found herself even more unable to look at them, gazing into the fire instead.

"Charlie," Danny said, voice soft but completely serious, "They used us against each other. They wanted her broken and me scared and they put us in the same cell so they could do both faster."

He was being brutally straightforward, as only Danny could be, and something about it would be comforting if it weren't for the fact that the entire idea of it made Charlie's blood boil. She hadn't liked thinking about what had happened to Anna, but she hadn't cared much one way or another, or she'd been able to convince herself that she didn't. But thinking about them doing things to Anna in front of Danny, just to make him miserable – that was more than she could shove away like she didn't care about it. "What?"

Anna swallowed, hard, and spoke again, sounding brave for the first time since she'd insisted that she needed to talk to Charlie. "They put us in the same cell so Danny would have to see how hurt I was, and worry about the same thing happening to him. But he didn't. He just tried to help me. Danny's not scared of anything." She smiled up at Danny and he grinned back in that way he had of not-quite-laughing.

Charlie felt her insides squirm again, and she wasn't sure whether she hated the idea of someone else making him smile like that again or whether she hated the idea that Monroe's men could have done to Danny what they'd done to Anna.

"I'm not scared of _much_," he corrected, something in his voice almost shutting Charlie out as he looked at Anna. "I was scared when you didn't come back."

Anna shuddered, hard, and his arm tightened around her. "That was when they finally broke me," she whispered, looking at Charlie with those big, wide, stupid, scared eyes that Charlie hated. "When they took me away from Danny, it was like . . . there was nothing to hold onto, anymore. Nothing good anyway. It was like the stars went out and everything was just blackness."

That, at least, Charlie could understand, even if it made Danny blush crimson and look away from them both. Sometimes it felt like Danny was the only bright spot in the universe. It had felt that way, when she was little, when there was no more ice cream or TV shows or air conditioning, and Charlie was miserable and Danny was still little, happy to play in the dirt, happy to be traveling even when Charlie was terrified that they would never find a place they could be safe, happy to be with his family even when Charlie spent all her time being afraid she might lose them.

Danny had been fun, bright, shining, all the way through their childhood and into their teens and without him – it _had_ been a little like the sun going out, now that Charlie thought about it. She'd needed him back, was all. And now she had him back and she was supposed to share him. But sharing him wasn't her job. Protecting him was. Wasn't it?

"It was hard for me, too," Danny said, looking back at Charlie now, "When they stopped bringing her back. I was sure it meant something, but I didn't know what. I didn't have anything to distract me from thinking about it, either. Things were different and it could mean a million things for either of us, and I just had to sit there thinking about all those things."

"It was like - like being adrift, not having someone else to worry about," Danny continued, the words coming more slowly now as he struggled to explain it all. "There was just me. Me and Mom, but I knew _she_ was alright. I just didn't know if she was going to do what they wanted so that they'd stop beating me, or if she wasn't, or whether I wanted her to or not. And I had to think about it all, because there was nothing else to think about or do. I think that was the idea. Make me suddenly have to face my own problems instead of hers and hope they would hit me harder that way. And they did. Except I was still thinking about Anna, too. Worrying. It almost made me saner, instead of crazier. The worrying, I mean."

Annabel's arms had been tucked between her and Danny, but now she wrapped them around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "I wondered about you, too." It was too much again. Them being together. Charlie stood up.

"Ok." She said. "Fine. I get it. You keep each other sane. Whatever. I'm gonna go see if Miles needs anything."

She felt bad for being so abrupt, for running away, especially as she saw the brief flash of hurt in her brother's eyes. But she also felt like she was softening toward the girl, and that hurt as much as hating her did, because it meant she was accepting, a little, that things were different now. She didn't _want_ to accept that things were different. If things were different, it was like Danny had said. It was like being adrift.

She wasn't sure what her purpose was, if it wasn't looking after Danny. She didn't like the way that felt. She didn't like to think about Danny feeling that way, when he was supposed to be the way he used to be instead, supposed to be simply her baby brother, the last bright thing in the universe. He was supposed to be happy and carefree, and it was so obvious to all of them that he wasn't, anymore.

Obvious to all of them except Anna, anyway. Anna still thought he was what he was supposed to be. She still thought he was the last star shining in the universe. It was almost sad, because Anna would never see how much _more_ Danny had been before all this. Charlie turned around at the door. "I'll never let your light go out, Danny. You know that." She wasn't really talking to Danny. She was talking to Anna. She just wasn't sure she wanted to admit that she could go from hating the other girl to wanting to comfort her so fast.


End file.
